Booty Call

11:50am on a Friday.

Elias kicked the mud off his boots and fumbled for the key to the porch door in his jacket pocket. Snow might have been pleasant during an autumn stroll through the Yukon wilderness by this picturesque AirBnB cabin. Sleet, not so much.

Key found lock, and Elias found safety inside. "Wheugh…"

Google had promised him "partly cloudy." He'd even taken his fancy camera with him outside. Maybe it was ultimately for the best that his running club buddies Paul and Pritha couldn't make the trip--though he supposed he could've finally gotten them to try one of the heavier board games in his collection once they were cooped up inside. In any case, he defaulted to the usual when the great outdoors was denied him: another run or two of Slay the Spire II. After a nice shower, he made himself some peppermint tea and sat down atop his bed by the second-story window looking out on the rain-drenched firs. He cracked open his laptop and prepared to relieve some pent-up work stress when he heard a tap, tap, tap.

"Huh?"

He turned to look out the window again, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

Casually floating there amid the inclement weather was an olive-skinned woman with short raven hair, clear hazel eyes, and a mischievous smile. She was dressed in breezy athleisure shorts and a cute white button-up top that barely covered her ample bust, exposing the tiniest amount of underboob.

And it wasn't just any woman.

"Lia? Oh my god, is that you!?"

She listed closer, to press her sopping wet top against the pane. "Miss me?"

---

Twelve minutes earlier, 11:38am in Long Island City, Queens, New York.

For every citizen down in the streets screaming over the many-tentacled steel death colossus hovering above the neighborhood, there were two cheering on the mysterious but dependable S-tier superheroine taking it on.

"You got this, Atalanta!"

"Love you, Atty!"

She too was up in the sky, clad in a full super-suit, cape, and eye-mask, along with a hood to go with her hunter theming.

Jesus fuck, she griped inwardly, another Fleshthresher? That's like the fifth one this month. Annoying little shits.

Of course, the woman behind the mask, Thalia "Lia" Loizou, couldn't betray any consternation. When in public, she had to remain a steadfast symbol of hope. She also couldn't call for the help of any of the other six superheroines in her power tier, since they were currently galaxies away on a diplomatic mission (Lia being the only one who turned down a position of authority within the Global Guild of Supers), so she'd have to figure out a way to solo this hunk of junk without great big pieces of cybertronic wreckage squashing innocents in the process.

Thankfully for her (and the world), there was nary another "can't" in Lia's lexicon. Super strength, super speed, super senses, super this, super that--she liked to joke the only super she dropped was her landlord.

All right, I'll clean its clock without collateral damage, but then I'm blowing off some STEAM, bro. I've been doing nothing but hero shit all fucking week.

She took a deep breath, and her eyes began to glow as her body crackled with energy. She posed like an archer drawing her bow, and a photonic arrow materialized. "Quarry sighted."

More cheers. "She said the thing!"

---

12:11pm at the AirBnB.

Lia was in her underwear wearing an old-ish Rush concert tee of Elias's with no bra on, floating cross-legged inches above the bed beside him with a Bluetooth controller in hand.

"So I should play that card, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, exactly."

"Boo-yah, bitch! And down he goes! Yo, this game is actually fire as fuck. What's it called again?"

"Slay the Spire II."

Luckily, a turn-based game turned out to be perfect for her; on the day she'd revealed her super-ness to him, she'd complained she couldn't go back to nostalgic games like Crash Bandicoot anymore due to her beyond-perfect reflexes. And they could play it as a co-op adventure, too, which was good, because a gracious loser she was not. Not since they were high schoolers playing Goldeneye on his N64 back in the day, and not since their FWB days during uni playing Smash (they played "smash" in more ways than one, he recalled fondly).

"Want me to grab you one of the Coronas that's in the fridge real quick?" she asked. "Assuming you bought it."

"How'd you know what's in the fridge?"

She gave him a look. "Bruh."

Oh, right. X-ray vision.

His expression turned sheepish. "Forgive me, not used to hanging out with supers."

"How did you think I found your location?"

"Government trackers?"

She sniggered. "Apart from that!"

"I wouldn't mind a beer, thanks man."

"Cool."

A rush of wind, the clinking of glass, and three seconds later, she was back to her original position beside him, two beers in hand. "I took the liberty of grabbing myself an Especial."

"By all means, partake."

"You must've wanted me over if you bought two six-packs."

"Well, I was expecting company, but I'll take your ass too."

She laughed while she effortlessly flicked the caps off the bottles, getting a little of the beer on her shirt. "I bet."

His eyes fell on the wet spot on her shirt.

"Look who else could use X-ray vision."

He knew she enjoyed his zingers, so he stood his ground. "Bro, I barely need it. Anybody can see those knockers from orbit."

"Aha ha ha ha! What can I say?" She handed him his beer. "That meteor must've been horny when it was shooting that radiation into me."

"Tell the truth, you were the one who was all horny thinking about Naruto/Sasuke smut when the crash happened."

"Dude, fuck off, Naruto? That was, like, middle-school me," she said, mock-offended.

He took a swig before putting the bottle and the laptop on the floor. "Okay, which cartoon character gets you horned up nowadays?"

"You dumbass." She made sure to carefully place the bottle on the bedrest, then gave him a perfectly controlled light tap to push him on his back. "You're the only cartoon character on my mind."

"I still got it, huh?"

"You've been working out," she said, X-ray scanning him approvingly. "How adorable."

She proceeded to unceremoniously rip his shirt clean off before he could get a word in.

"Hoo baby!" he shouted, startled.

But her hands were already on his belt, ripping it centimeter by centimeter. "That look on your face. Priceless! Don't sweat it, champ, I'll buy ya a new wardrobe for me to tear off ya."

"That's ridiculously hot--" was all he could utter before her mouth invaded his.

---

8:10pm. They were still in bed, this time half-watching random Game Grumps videos on the TV in the room.

It was only after they'd gone at it for nearly eight straight hours that the weather outside the window had cleared up, and by then she'd had her fill of cosmically intense giga-orgasms. He mused to himself that the bed would have been pulverized forty times over were it not for the fact she was hovering over it with him in her arms for most of their fuck sesh. As for why he himself wasn't currently a fine mist:

"It's one of my powers. It's like, if it's a person I like or I'm hot for, my body knows it, and whatever part of that person is inside me instantly gets enhanced, along with the rest of their body for a time."

"So now my dick is super-powered?"

"Only with women who want it that way. I made ya a regular stallion. You're welcome."

"Friends with benefits, indeed!" He took out a cigarette and looked at her expectantly.

"Don't push your luck, bucko" she said, but that grin was there. She used a little a laser vision to light it for him. "Though I guess it's the least I can do."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, now that you're a lean mean fucking machine, some of the supers I know are gonna knock on your door. And some might smash through the door by accident. Trust me, I know some horny honeys."

"No worries, I realized when I 'slapped your ass' with that point blank hunter's rifle that I'm kinda into supers. If anything, you've done me a favor."

"Look at you, Mr. Cool as a Cucumber. I can hear your heart beating with anticipation. You're giddy as a schoolboy at the prospect."

"Guilty as charged. Damn, I remember when I used to be able to get things past ya."

"Why don't you quit your job and just become a gigolo for supers?" she joked.

"Think the foundation whose IT department I run might have a thing or two to say about that."

"Sucks when folks need your ass, don't it?" she replied.

"I certainly need *dat* ass."

She snorted. "I love being in lust with you."

"Me too, bro. Speaking of which, how many other guys have you given the gift of the Hyper Schween to?"

"Only guys I trust. So you're, like, Number Five."

"I oughta get in touch with them. I'm sure they could give me a couple of pointers on this new chapter of my life."

"Hey, maybe we could even *get together* if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, for a game of Captain Sonar."

"You dweeb."

"Look, gang-banging you would be awesome and all, but do you know how long I've been waiting to shake the dust off that big, beautiful box?"

"I'll show you a big, beautiful box."

He laughed. "So, why'd you pick me today for your lay?"

"No reason. It's just been a while, ya know? I saw you in the cabin alone and figured, maybe I could just spend the next three or so days hanging out."

"You are a hero, cuz you're saving my weekend," he replied. "I miss hanging out with you too."

"I'll fly you around tomorrow, you can take nice nature shots, and we're remote enough here that I don't need to keep my guard up."

"I'd sincerely love that."

"And then--"

"Another eight hours in the sack?" he asked.

"Plus an hour or two of Slay the Whatsit."

"Sounds like a plan."

He was dozing off, exhausted from today. She didn't require sleep, so she let him catch some Zs.

"Goodnight, bestie."

With that, she zoomed off to Macao to play craps for some funsies in the meantime.